Y O U T H
by Dragon Silhouette
Summary: Japan invites America over for an anime marathon. America becomes obsessed. "I CAN SENSE THE OVERFLOWING YOUTH IN THIS ROOM!" ". . . The bloody hell are you talking about?"


**Disclaimer: Axis Powers Hetalia, Dragon Ball Z, One Piece, Naruto, Bleach, and Fullmetal Alchemist are not mine.**

* * *

**YOUTH**

* * *

_**Japan's House  
Tokyo, Japan – 3:39 pm  
August 25**__**th**__**, 2012**_

Japan sat on the couch beside his video game buddy. "Thank you for coming over, America-san."

America grinned. "No prob, dude. I've heard a lot about anime back home. A lot of kids watch it these days."

The Japanese man smiled softly, glad that his American friend had accepted his invitation. Anime had been getting more and more popular in the West, and he thought he should educate America on the subject. He was extremely happy to see Westerners cosplay popular anime characters – Goku, Luffy, Naruto Uzumaki, Ichigo Kurosaki, Edward Elric, and everyone else in the world of anime. A few of the pictures he had Googled looked disturbingly like some of his fellow Nations, but he reasoned they were probably just characters from an anime he didn't know about (which was impossible because he was Japan, and he knew every anime on Earth) and was a complete coincidence and _SHOULD NOT BE INVESTIGATED ANY FURTHER._

Anyway . . .

Japan turned on the huge, flat-screen television (because they were watching anime, and anime deserved to be seen on awesome television) and settled into the cushions. The theme song blared out of the speakers.

"What are we watching?" America asked. "I can't understand the song."

"We are watching Naruto," he answered. "It is in English sub, so the translations are in the bottom of the screen. I could have put in English dub, but – quoting your American viewers – _it sucks_."

"What's it about?"

"Ninjas."

"_Cooooool."_

* * *

_**World Conference Meeting Room  
New York City, America – 2:00 pm  
September 7**__**th**__**, 2012**_

Germany sighed as he entered the meeting room. Italy was right behind him, babbling about the wonders of pasta. _Why do we even have these meetings? It's not like anything ever gets done here . . ._

He sat on his usual seat and examined the Nations.

All of them were fighting each other.

Very normal.

Except for one thing.

Japan and America were missing.

Germany was confused. Japan was always punctual; that was the kind of person he was. He wouldn't miss a meeting unless something urgent came up. And America . . . He always came to the meetings to preach about his "super-awesome superhero" that will someday solve the world's problems. Or any other nonsense.

Germany cleared his throat and raised his voice. "Everyone."

He was ignored.

"_All of you."_

Ignored.

"_SHUT UP!"_

Attention caught.

Once again, he cleared his throat. "Has anyone seen –"

"_**DYNAMIC ENTRY!"**_

A foot came out of nowhere and crashed into Germany's face. The German _EPICLY_ flew across the room in _slow motion_ ('cause everything is better in slow-mo) and slammed into the opposite wall with all the awesomeness that one move can muster – which is to say, a lot.

America, his right foot resting on the unconscious German's body in that hero-like way, grinned at the entire room. A sunset background somehow appeared behind America, complete with crashing-waves sound effects. His teeth gleamed and sparkled – obviously the work of _way_ too many teeth whitening strips.

And underneath his bomber jacket was . . . was . . .

"Mon dieu," France whispered. "L'Amérique . . . what are you wearing?" He promptly fainted.

Underneath his bomber jacket, he was wearing green spandex.

He gave everyone in the meeting room a thumbs up and proclaimed, "I CAN SENSE THE OVERFLOWING YOUTH IN THIS ROOM!" He pointed at a dazed England. "ESPECIALLY YOU!"

". . . The bloody hell are you talking about?"

Japan stepped into the room, an apologetic look in his face. "I apologize, everyone. This is my fault entirely." He bowed deeply.

"What did you do, aru?" China questioned.

"He discovered Might Guy."

* * *

**Fail :P**


End file.
